


Confluence

by alexanndrian



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A slight hink of age kink if you're looking for it, Blowjobs for Christ, F/M, Oral Sex, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 02:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3593001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanndrian/pseuds/alexanndrian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen swears he's going to burn for defiling one of the Maker's chosen AKA Cullen receives THE blowjob of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confluence

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this KMeme prompt:
> 
> http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/13696.html?thread=52607104#t52607104
> 
> f!Trevelyan/Cullen, take it all | Cullen receives THE blowjob of his life.

There’s a righteousness in her gaze.

 

She falls to her knees before him, face bright with the light of the Maker — under the guise of sunlight, illuminating her hair, crafted into a halo around her face. Cullen cups her soft cheek in his large hand, running a finger along the round curve of her ear and she leans into his touch.

 

His Lady Trevelyan places her fingers against his own. She is warm — he can feel it in her grasp, the light sigh of her breath against his hand when she pulls it to her lips. Her mouth doesn’t quite touch his flesh, not yet. Just a light teasing of skin against skin though it makes him shiver all the same.

 

They are in front each other before the image of Andraste in Skyhold’s small Chantry, candles shining around them as the twilight sun wans. Her shift is made with light gauzy fabric, revealing the dusty peaks of her breasts to his view. He is naked before her, his cock stiff with the promise of arousal. Her lips are plump where she continues to bite down on them, cherry red and he wants to kiss her, thorough and clean until they can only breathe in each other. Wants to plant his mouth over hers and taste the sweet meadow breeze past her lips because she is born of spring.

 

“You are so beautiful.” It spills out of him when Cullen forgets he’s not supposed to be talking.

 

Her answer is to put his finger in her mouth, amber eyes like honeyed ale glancing up at him. She sucks it in lightly, mimicking what she will do to his cock settled next to her face. It erotic where it has no right to be. She licks the inside of his palm like a seasoned courtesan, though there isn’t a way she would know that skill. His breath quickens under her light ministrations, raising to a hitch when she places his moistened hand to his own shaft under her fingers.

 

She allows him to stroke himself slowly in the beginning, distracting him with her fingertips finding the grip of his hipbones. He feels as if he will fall over with the embers starting to form in his belly, so he grabs her shoulder as an anchor. This gives her pause and she stops. Cullen curses under his breath at forwardness, this is new to her. This act is not meant to be a sexual one, not for her. It’s different than his nightmares in the tower. His lady is of pure intentions. But after what seems like an eternity she continues, a bit more tentative than before, but she does not stop again.        

 

Cullen is a holy man. He knows because she told him so, the reason she chose him for her benediction.  

 

“Bring me down from my grace.” She had said when she walked into his office just before dawn that morning, at his wordless confusion she continued. “The Maker bathes me in all his light and it drowns me. I need him to shine on all of his children. Let him see them.” She hesitated then, fiddling with her fingers, “I don’t want to be forsaken — just set down for awhile.”

 

And because he couldn’t refuse her, he said: “Of course my Lady.”     

  
  


When she pulls his cock into her sweet, wet mouth — her hands searching his torso for the answers to her faith  — it takes everything in him not to reach for her again. She is strong, he knew this, he’d seen her fight well enough, but she is also small and a mage. It would take nothing for him to lift her, subdue the light tendrils of her magic floating around them, push her to the hollowed floor and fuck her in the high altar, Andraste’s stoic face in his gaze.

 

She will be shocked, when he pushes her knees to her shoulders and covers her round, ample body with his own. She would grasp for him with frantic hands, as he settles inside of her warm untouched heat. She would be glorious, face flushed with red and a slight high pitched moan he wanted her to sing as a chant, entirely worth waiting for. And no suitor in Skyhold attempting to catch her gaze would compare.     

 

But he doesn’t because it’s not about him. It’s for her and he would swallow the world entire if she requested.  

 

_‘Maker forgive me. Because I love a woman more desperately than I love your word.’_

 

When had this obsession begun? When had a traded in the poison of one addiction for the sweet panacea of another? He’d taken notice the minute he saw her, drinking in the sight of her. She was young. He could tell by the adolescent swell of her hips, the fire in her spirit, the inexperience of a life live locked in a tower marked in her eyes when she looks up at him through her lashes. He is ashamed to admit he had taken himself in hand many nights to the thought of her body wrapped around his own.

 

She tries to engulf him in completely. Her lips trying to curve around him and her tongue comes to wipe him clean. He cries out when he hits the back of her throat. She pulls him out of her mouth and allows him to lay heavy and hot in her palm before she looks up at him. “I - is this alright?” She says with insecurity.

 

Cullen can do nothing but nod and she smiles before taking him into her yet again. Her cheeks hollow with the squeeze of her mouth. His hands take to her hair and she doesn’t stop, if anything it seems to encourage her.

 

“Good girl.” He can hear himself whisper breathlessly. That seems to encourage her even more. Cullen coughs out a moan when she hums around him. Can't help it when his hips start to move themselves, lightly thrusting into her mouth. She chokes when he pushes in too far. Her eyes squeezed shut and her hands grasp the muscle of his thighs, but soon there she is again staring into his eyes and he knows she doesn’t want him to stop.    

 

He much likes the sound, so he pushes her down again, his large palm pressing against her skull. She takes him in deeper and he’s gasping.

 

Cullen knows he will burn for this. A knot forms in his stomach, heat pools in his hips and he can’t stop himself from fucking her mouth in earnest. He hears a small moan muffled behind her lips, edging him on further. The pressure is rising and climbing and she is there taking him in. He had dreamed this many a night. How she would fall to her knees and sing for him, hair flowing freely and face flushed garnet with the flood of arousal. It was too much. She was too perfect and he couldn’t ho-

 

Cullen spends himself inside of her mouth with a cry and a shudder, pulling himself out of her mouth and falling to his knees because not even her light application of magic in the air can keep him upright anymore. He looks up to see her cheeks empty themselves into her throat and a stream a fluid defiling her cheek.      

 

Again, he can’t help himself so he pulls her face by a harsh grip on her chin and swallows her mouth down. The taste of himself on her tongue is a steady flag for his again burgeoning erection, ready for more of her. Her hands come to claw around his forearms and she trembles like she might want him to let go, but she tastes how he expects the sweetest wine to taste beyond the gates of the golden city.

 

His lips leave hers, moving to leave light promises of pleasure along her face. He takes pleasure in the way she cries out and hugs her arms around his shoulders as he takes his tongue to her neck tasting the salt lying beneath her flesh.   

 

“Stop.” It’s said softly and she places palms against his chest. He’s shaking with the desire to fuck her in this holy place, but brings himself to sense and looks at her. Hair tousled, the straps of her dress falling from freckled shoulders, kiss abused lips and wide innocent eyes is the vision before him and he knows he will remember her like this for the rest of his days. “I’m not ready. I must go.”

 

Cullen sits back on his heels and wordlessly lets her pass, disgusted he used her innocent gesture to share her Maker’s light as fuel for his own desires. But there is no judgment in her gaze when she smiles at him, only gratitude. She stands and steps over him but stops at the door to lay words under her breath:

_The one who repents, who has faith, unshaken by the darkness of the world, she shall know true peace. Amen._

 

Then she’s gone, taking the air from the room with her, the loss of her presence felt by even the air around him. Cullen raises his chin to the painted glass above him and repeats: “Amen. Maker forgive me.”

  
  


 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've always been obsessed with the way religion intertwined in my Quizzy's sexual relationship...I might write more on this


End file.
